My ONE LOVE life

As my daughter gets older I find myself continually challenged by what she’s exposed to when I am not around.

You might have read a few months back about a racial incident that took place at my daughter’s school. A classmate had said she didn’t want to play with her because of her skin color. The teacher had actually called me at home to explain how she handled it and I was O.K. -until I was told the “real story” this weekend.

Has that ever happened to you? Months after you think you’ve resolved an issue, put a lid on it, you run into a friend who has a different perspective, and rips the lid right off. Geez.

Apparently the part that the teacher didn’t tell me was like almost the whole thing!  My friend who spilled the story was also there, in the class, to witness how it all went down.  What allegedly took place was that my daughter’s friend was whispering to their friends that she didn’t want to play with my daughter because of her skin color. This started as one of those whispering games, where everyone was in on it, except my daughter. (That alone breaks my heart).

Apparently when the teacher caught wind of what was going on she pulled my daughter and the friend aside to lecture them.  From what I understand, the teacher proceeded to berate the 6 year old in front of my daughter until they were both crying.  She went so far as to call the child a “racist”, telling her that “people have been killed because of their skin color”. My friend reported that both girls were bawling after the lecture and then met with the class as a whole where the shaming continued.  The teacher only reported the classroom discussion to me, which mainly focused on building my daughters confidence with appreciations.

I am shocked and appalled. This is just not how I would have wanted this situation to go down.  I feel like this child was shaken down by this teacher.  And the girls, my gosh, how are they to understand and come to terms with what they learned about racism?  Will either ever feel O.K. talking about race and skin color?

And now, more than 6 months later, when my daughter is in a different class, what do we do?

Over the years I have chosen not to bring up racism with my kids.  I figure they will bring it home when they are ready and the opportunity with reveal itself.  How is a six year old supposed to feel hearing that white people, (like her mom, grandparents, uncle, cousin, and neighbors) might want to kill her because of her skin color?

So when AND how do we talk to our children about racism? How do we share the history of slavery?  God, explain slavery to a six year old?  I am at a loss -and bummed about the missed opportunity.

Please share your thoughts.

This weekend my husband and I found a piece of furniture on Craigslist.  (I love Craigslist!)  We stopped by the home of the seller on our way to the Fall Festival at my daughter’s school.  We met the couple that was selling it.  They were very nice, and friendly.  They even gave my daughter a few old tennis rackets, as she was interested in learning.

Later my husband went back to pick it up.  He ended up engaging in some small talk with the guy and took a while to get home.  When he did finally get home he started to tell me how interesting he thought the guy was, and added a “by the way” question.  We often do this with each other, to check in about cross-cultural issues.

My husband shared, “The guy said something kind of strange to me.  He asked me how I got my muscles.  He said he wondered if it was from weight lifting or prison.”

I was shocked.  And angry.  I explained to my husband, with tempered anger, that the guys was a *&%#-ing racist.  He said he wasn’t sure, he wondered why someone would say something like that.

As we discussed it further we began to conclude that the guy really wasn’t entirely racist.  If he was actually a racist, wouldn’t he have turned us away when we came to buy his furniture?  He certainly wouldn’t have negotiated such a great deal with us earlier that day.  And he wouldn’t have helped my husband load the piece into his truck and engage in such a long conversation.

So what does this comment make this guy?  Ignorant?  What should my husband have said to come back to such a comment?  I know what I would have said…  Do we have an obligation to say something?  I think so… If we are ever going to shift the great divide among the races we have to get comfortable calling people on their ignorance.  And we have to be able to do it in a gentle way that doesn’t shut people down, make them feel stupid and drive them deeper into the great divide.

What do you think?

A reader writes: “How has your husband adjusted to living far away? Do you ever think about going back to live in his home country? How do you keep his culture a part of your children’s lives? Do you practice Judaism at all/raise your kids Jewish?”

I don’t think a day passes that the Caribbean is not at least mentioned in our home.  Certainly my husband misses home tremendously.  And unfortunately he hasn’t been home in 5 years.  That’s a tough one for both of us.

Having sacrificed his vacation time to support me this year it won’t be until next year that he gets to venture south.  Maybe we’ll all get to go.  It’s a costly trip, as my husband comes from an island that does not have any direct flights form the US.

His mom came to “live” with us when my maternity leave ran out and I went back to work.  That was two years ago.  It was her first time leaving the Caribbean and it was quite a culture shock.  She was scheduled to stay 6 months but left after four.  It was great for my husband to have her here, and a special memory for our daughters.  He wants her to come back soon, though I don’t know if he’d be willing to sacrifice his own trip home this time.

I am sure missing home means more to him than just seeing family.  His culture is just so different from mine.  When I think about getting off the plane I can feel the humidity, hear the sounds of tropical bugs and loud music thumping from the vans whizzing by.

I miss the island too.  So, yes, we do think about going back to live there.  We have a piece of land with a gorgeous view, and we talk seriously about it on a monthly basis.  But we aren’t sure how we’d make a viable living there.  The truth is, most of the country is unemployed and struggling.  That lifestyle doesn’t appeal to either one of us, especially with kids.  We talk about starting a business, like exporting bamboo fabric.  Our latest day dream is to own a juice bar.  Believe it or not there isn’t one there!

So how do we keep Caribbean culture alive in our home?  It’s hard not to.  I suppose it helps that I have lived there for a significant period of time.  I can talk about the islands, point out opportunities as they arise.  Music is ever present in our lives. My husband actually plays the local radio from his island, over the Internet.  It’s fun to hear it in real time, listeners calling in making requests, political debates, and the news.  We also read books that have Caribbean themes, or stories.  My husband is a fantastic cook and keeps the taste of the islands alive.  I have been told that our house actually smells faintly of the islands.

A remarkable thing happened five years ago when we first moved here.  We were at a festival when a man approached my husband and said he knew him.  As it turned out they had attended high school together.  It also happened that his daughters, West Indian, Caucasian, and Japanese, are ages 6 and 3; ours ages 2 and 6.

He is now my husband’s closest friend (beside me of course), and we see the girls on a regular basis.  I benefit from the daddy play dates they have on a regular basis!  For the girls I think it’s a great gift to have a friend you’ve known since you were one year old (or born in the case of the youngest girls) but it’s an added bonus that they have so much in common with their dads.  I imagine that understanding and shared experience will be invaluable as they grow older.

As for practicing Judaism.  I am not a practicing Jew.  Though I do consider Judaism to be a large part of my cultural and genetic make-up.  I did ironically contract a Jewish disease… It is my father’s side of the family that is Jewish and they are the side that I grew up living close to and being a part of my everyday life.  So I consider it a large part of who I am.  I have even retained my Hebrew last name and passed it along to my daughters, hyphenated to include both mine and my husband’s last names.

So I hope that answers some lingering questions.  I do appreciate that there are people out there reading about me, and my family.  I write in large part for YOU!  So please write, tell me what you’re curious about.  I am usually happy to share my experience and opinion.  I’d also love to hear about your own experiences, challenges, and joys of being in an intercultural, interracial world!

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking my 6 year old daughter to see Alicia Keys live in concert. What a treat! It was just the two of us on a Friday night, under a blanket of stars, squeezed up next to a few thousand other people.

She has always enjoyed Alicia Keys and has been singing along with her since she was a tiny tot.

Ms. Keys was great too. She jumped around the stage in her tight white pants. Sang her heart out and jammed at the piano. Her songs of positivity and promise showered over the crowd, dousing us with her ever expanding energy of love and joy. It was a night to remember. More than just a first concert for my little one, more than just a mommy/daughter date, it was a moment in time.

And this weekend too, my heart has just been so full of optimism and joy for the potential of what lies ahead. We are about to elect Barack Obama into the office of the President. I have just been reeling with what this means for my girls, for the future of this country, and the world at large.

My children, our children, will know and see their full potential. They will not know any different. Never will they hear a conversation about ‘if it’s possible to elect a black president.”

My childhood experiences of unspoken segregation and white-washing are no longer. It is “normal” to see people of color in major leadership positions, in positions of power, knowledge, and wisdom.  And not only are they people of color, they are people of character.  I am so proud of my daughters’ role models.  

No longer am I seeking opportunities for my family; they are everywhere. My community, my vision of the world, embraces the infinite. This is what happens when we say “Yes” to possibility!

My little girls get to say “Yes” too. “Yes mom, I want to be President one day”. “Yes mom, I want to be like Alicia Keys some day.” The world is open and ready to receive what they have to offer. What parent would want anything else?

If the world could vote?

I haven’t been an active writer these days.  You may have noticed.  It’s been quite a time for me,  I was whammied with a major health issue two months ago. I have no desire to lament the details about it here.  But what I have noticed is that stress is the true test of a marriage.

I am happy to report that my amazing husband has been an exemplary pillar of loyalty and support.  I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.  It’s hard for me to imagine how tenuous I felt 8 years ago when we wed, and even 7 years ago during that trying first year.  If ever someone would have told me that we would evolve into such a solid, supportive, loving entity together I would have giggled with delight and curiosity.

In part I can attribute this growth to the true nature of my husband.  He is kind, mellow, and generous in spirit.  I have always seen him as my own personal, living, Buddha.

But the other part is culture.  He comes from a place where being in the moment matters.  It is rare to get a solid response when you ask a West Indian his or her plans.

If asked, “what are you doing tomorrow after work?

The response is often prefaced with “God willing, …(fill in the blank).”

He comes from a place where worry and strife are useless.  “One love“, “irie“, and “no problem mon” are attitudes that plague his culture.

He comes from a family of nine.  One mom and 8 glorious children!  He is the oldest male of the lot and took up a lot of responsibility growing up.  He has no issue with taking off work for 12 days while I fly off to Atlanta!  He has no issue washing dishes (every night), cooking dinner, and not getting angry with me when I don’t.  He relishes in the opportunity to help, to help me, my parents, a friend, or other relative.  It is his way, his culture, his being, so neatly intertwined and openly available to appreciate.

He quietly goes about the world just being all of those amazing things.  He never resents.  He has never said to me, “but I need time to myself too.”

Over the years I have learned from him.  I have cultivated a carpe diem attitude and he has evolved into a responsible, American workforce type…  For what it’s worth the evolution works.  We have found a balance and it seems that the tried and true test of life stress can’t rock this boat, or tip this scale out of balance.  I’ve heard from verterans of the marriage world that 10 years is the real hump.  With less than two to go, I can’t imagine how stellar things will be then!

With the start of a new school year is the beginning of the questions.

When I dropped off my daughter the other morning one of the parents confessed to me that her daughter had said, “wow, I didn’t know that she (my daughter) had an American mom”.

And when I went to pick up my daughter yesterday after school a girl asked her, “Is that your mom?”

“Yes.”  my daughter replied. And the girl mumbled something under her breath.  My daughter asked her what she said and the girl shrugged it off.  My daughter then said, “What? Are you surprised that my mother is white and I am brown?”  The girl nodded and that was the end of that.

When we got home I later asked my daughter if she often gets questions like that.  She said, “not too often.”  Then she added that the other day a girl was making fun of her for having two different color parents.  I tried to keep my cool as I said, “tell me more”.

She went on to explain that the girl told her that she had two white parents and that my daughter was strange for having two different color parents.  She said the girl just blurted it out and ran away.  When my daughter later caught up with her, the girl apologized and said that perhaps my daughter was lucky to have two different color parents.

I’ve noticed that 6 year old girls sure do have a unique way of communicating.

My daughter concluded that she is indeed very fortunate to have two different color parents and that it’s great to be unique.